Page 28 of Storm Caller

“Night,” they say, disappearing behind a door as Rook leads me farther down the hall.

“You probably don’t want to sleep next to them. Who knows what kinds of vile sex sounds they’ll make?” Rook jokes, pulling a face of disgust.

A snicker bursts out of me, and I cover my mouth.

“You’re allowed to laugh,” Rook says softly, reaching out, almost as if to tuck back a piece of my hair, but he stops himself, letting his hand fall to his side.

Then we stop at a door with a green lit panel anchored to the wall. He punches a button, and the door opens.

We enter the guest room, where a small cavern hewn into the rock reveals a wooden bed covered in soft blue sheets. A table and chairs stand off to the side, while a plush armchair is placed in the corner next to a wooden wardrobe. A fireplace covers one wall, and Rook walks over, grabbing some logs from a pile sitting at the base.

I rub my arms, staring around, appreciating whoever tried to make this space cozy.

“It’s nice,” I say, dropping onto the bed, bouncing a little on the mattress. Rook finishes with the fire that’s now roaring to life before running a hand along the back of his head, clearly debating his next words.

“My room is a bit nicer,” he says. “More . . . Well, it’s mine, and there’s plenty of room. I have a window. If you want to, I could take the couch and—”

“No,” I say. “That’s nice of you to offer, but I should probably stay here.”

“It is quiet here,” he says.

“I could use some quiet.”

He hesitates, possibly wanting to argue, but must think better of it. “Okay, well, I’ll come get you in the morning and take you to breakfast.”

“Sure,” I say. “That would be nice.”

He hesitates again, searching my face. He has something to say, but I don’t have enough energy for this conversation right now. I feel like I’m limping through fog, unsure if my next step will be off a cliff.

“I’m really tired,” I say. “Can we chat tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he says. “I owe you an explanation. A lot of them.”

“All right.”

“You’re sure you want to stay here?”

I nod, gripping the blanket under my hands. “Yes. I think so.”

He heaves out a sigh. “Okay then. Good night, Poet. You can shower down the hall. This wing is mostly empty, so you should have the bathroom to yourself.”

“Thank you. Night, Rook.”

With one more lingering look, he leaves, closing the door.

Immediately, I’m lonely.

I’ve come to count on his presence the last few days. The last few months, if I’m being honest.

But now we’ve entered his world, where we stand divided, and I have so much to learn.

I slide my pack off my shoulders and dig into it, finding a pair of leggings and a long-sleeved shirt. Slowly, I pull out the rest of the contents, examining the pieces I have left of my old life.

It’s not much. Some scraps of clothing. My phone. The battery is nearly dead, but more importantly, there’s no signal. No more connection to my life and the only home I’ve ever known.

But maybe that world is lost to me forever. I was exposed as a danger to everyone around me. I’m infected. Diseased. A problem to be dealt with. There is almost nothing left for me in New Manhattan.

Then comes Teddy.